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Are you bored? Tell us about it.
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when I am looking for stuff to do during afk events I go to a random group of players and transform into Duncan and make him use the female boast body gesture or the butt wiggle gesture. it is entertaining to see how players react and some even enjoy it. some players also enjoy having a random player transformed as a cat napping close to them.
I always thought KelpSoda's name was a Spongebob reference since Kelp Soda is a drink in the show, Kelpcat sounds like a cool name idea though.
...You wouldn't happen to have been a gold-digging cat once in your lifetime, were you? XD
You know, since Canada is officially English/French bilingual, if you were gonna have a TV show about cats you'd have to call it: Chat Chat. BWA HA HA HA HA
what use is gold to a cat. no, I cat nap near random groups so they lower their guard then turn into a old male character and freak them out with Duncan, Wyllow, or Meven doing the butt wiggle gesture. when they are blinded trying clean their eyes with bleach I steal their food, preferably targets that have fish. cats must be masters of mischief and deception.
I was just wondering, cause there was one time I was under the festia tree wearing some of my best, and the cat made comment of detecting a 'pretty mama to care for it' xD
So, apparently, that cat wanted an owner, opposed to remaining a stray :P
What were we talking about?
We were talking?
Oui?
Meandering seems more like
Less than the woodchuck could chuck chumps
My little friends
To talk of other things
Of shoes and ships and sealing wax
Cabbages and kings
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
Each word written upon the page
Tears shreds from your soul
Till one can't stop the tears?
What if they scream for existence
A life yearning to breathe
What if what you hold would cause you to burst
Desire and joy, sorrow and madness behold
Become another living on a line
Inmost parts laid out to dry
What if it would slowly eat you alive
If it did not burst out of you like a scream
An black stain upon snow white sheets
Furious, maddening, words like expressions released
Slowly carving out part of your heart to let them leave?
Writing is a madness, just saying. You're never satisfied with it, it could ALWAYS be better, and you can rewrite it a million times and still hate it with with a flaming passion like it was still a fresh draft. Worse is when whoever you're writing starts to take on a life of their own, and then THEY start yelling at you to hurry up and write. Like seriously-
No joke, little joke. I love it, but I hate it XD Too many voices, this is why writers are very bizarre and kooky peeps. Its a hidden mental asylum in there.
Also, congrats, you inspired me for a moment to stop being lazy and make an effort just to hate my efforts again XDD Ah well, its fun at the same time.
out of my mind. Holding the log
while he sawed it. Holding
the string while he measured, boards,
distances between things, or pounded
stakes into the ground for rows and rows
of lettuces and beets, which I then (bored)
weeded. Or sat in the back
of the car, or sat still in boats,
sat, sat, while at the prow, stern, wheel
he drove, steered, paddled. It
wasn't even boredom, it was looking,
looking hard and up close at the small
details. Myopia. The worn gunwales,
the intricate twill of the seat
cover. The acid crumbs of loam, the granular
pink rock, its igneous veins, the sea-fans
of dry moss, the blackish and then the graying
bristles on the back of his neck.
Sometimes he would whistle, sometimes
I would. The boring rhythm of doing
things over and over, carrying
the wood, drying
the dishes. Such minutiae. It's what
the animals spend most of their time at,
ferrying the sand, grain by grain, from their tunnels,
shuffling the leaves in their burrows. He pointed
such things out, and I would look
at the whorled texture of his square finger, earth under
the nail. Why do I remember it as sunnier
all the time then, although it more often
rained, and more birdsong?
I could hardly wait to get
the hell out of there to
anywhere else. Perhaps though
boredom is happier. It is for dogs or
groundhogs. Now I wouldn't be bored.
Now I would know too much.
Now I would know.
O Canada!
Sorry to hear that. Ear ache?